


What Could Have Been

by FallingLikeThis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathrooms, Boys Kissing, Famous Harry, Famous Louis, Harry's album, M/M, Make Up, Pining, Post-Break Up, Regret, award show, just... like... a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: Louis tries to loosen his tie from the chokehold it has on his neck. It’s really hot in here, but he doesn’t think anyone would appreciate it if he started taking off his clothes. Maybe it’s the number of people, all wool suits and hot breath, filling the amphitheater as they wait for the Grammys to start that’s got Louis feeling like it’s hard to breathe. Or maybe it’s who else is here tonight, sitting three rows up and looking even better than Louis remembers.Harry.Louis knew him once. Loved him. Still does if the flutter in his chest at the mere sight of him can be believed. If only Louis hadn’t thrown it all away.





	What Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt 813: The bitterness that you missed a lifetime opportunity and didn't even give it a try.**

Louis tries to loosen his tie from the chokehold it has on his neck. It’s really hot in here, but he doesn’t think anyone would appreciate it if he started taking off his clothes. Maybe it’s the number of people, all wool suits and hot breath, filling the amphitheater as they wait for the Grammys to start that’s got Louis feeling like it’s hard to breathe. Or maybe it’s who else is here tonight, sitting three rows up and looking even better than Louis remembers.

_Harry._

Louis knew him once. Loved him. Still does if the flutter in his chest at the mere sight of him can be believed. If only Louis hadn’t thrown it all away.

**Summer 2014**

 

_“What do you think?” Harry asks, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward to await Louis’ reaction, hands clasped the way he does when he doesn’t know what to do with them. He’s nervous about Louis’ answer, and Louis’ stomach churns with apprehension._

_“You want to move to America,” Louis repeats, voice flat because if he displays any kind of emotion, it’ll be all the wrong ones, the ones Harry doesn’t want to hear._

_“Yeah, Lou,” Harry nods, eyes burning with a fiery conviction. He’s nervous, but passionate about this. “We’ve always talked about getting into music together and I’m tired of fooling around with it but never actually following through. I’ve heard it’s easier to get a contract in America. We could go there and actually do something.”_

_“Harry…” Louis pauses, considering his words. “Our families are here, babe. Are you really so ready to leave behind everyone you love?”_

_“Not everyone I love, Louis. Not you,” Harry argues. “We’ll be together.”_

_A moment of silence passes where Louis doesn’t say anything. Honestly, he scared of going and trying to live somewhere so far away from his family, where he won’t have that safety net to fall back on if everything goes wrong._

_“Won’t we?” Harry adds quietly before Louis can think of what to say._

_“I don’t think we should go, Harry,” Louis says delicately, reaching for Harry’s hands. “What if we go and nothing happens? What if we get stuck there because we can’t afford to come back? Harry, what if we don’t make it?”_

**Now**

 

_What if we don’t make it_?  Louis thinks that’s the moment that broke them. Because, while Louis didn’t mean them as a couple, it had showed a lack of faith in some small part of the dream they had spent the last few years trying to build.  It showed Harry the cracks that had started to form in his plans for their future.

A few weeks later, weeks of Harry being uncomfortably quiet, he’d brought up the subject again. He’d make up his mind, he was going to America. If Louis didn’t want to come with him, it was fine. If they loved each other enough, they could make the long distance work, right? Only Louis didn’t want long distance, he didn’t want his boyfriend going off to America without him. He didn’t want Harry meeting new people without him and maybe realizing that he liked them better than the chicken shit boyfriend he’d left across the sea. He told Harry to go if he wanted, but Louis wasn’t going to wait around for him.

Louis often relives that night in vivid memory. He knew the second Harry was gone that it had been a mistake. He should have gone with him, or gone after him when he’d left. He should have at least answered when Harry had sent him texts, telling him he’d landed safely, begging him to reconsider. But Louis had his pride, and it hurt too much to think about the love of his life being so far away from him for who knew how long, especially when the leaving had been his choice. It didn’t occur to him at the time that it would hurt worse to lose Harry for good.

Then came the kick to the gut. Harry had made it. He’d gone to America and been discovered. The day Louis heard him on the radio was probably one of the worst of his life. Because there he was feeling so proud and full of love and he couldn’t even think beyond wanting to call Harry up and tell him so. And then he’d remembered that he couldn’t, Harry wasn’t his to be proud of anymore.

A year later, when Louis had been discovered singing Karaoke in what he’d assumed was just a crappy pub but actually turned out to be a hotspot for talent scouts, his own success was diminished by the fact that he had no one to share it with. Well, no Harry to share it with. Because Harry was the only one he really wanted to share it with. They were supposed to do this together and here they were, rising to stardom whole continents apart. It made the achievement feel rather empty.

Louis fidgets in his seat staring at the back of his ex-lover’s head. _Good God, will they get the show on the fucking road already??_

Finally, the lights go down and everyone is alerted to get their asses in their seats. Thank goodness. Louis hopes this doesn’t take long. He’s got a bed to get to that’s much better for wallowing in regret than this mildly uncomfortable chair and he’s still got to make an appearance at Liam and Zayn’s stupid afterparty.

Louis settles in for the show, prepared to annoy his neighbors endlessly as he spends the whole night staring at the back of the head of the one that got away.

 

*

 

Fuck. Harry fucking won. He fucking won _Album of the Year_. Louis is man enough to admit he deserves it, he’s listened to it on repeat countless times himself though he only admits that to Liam when he’s drunk and his friend is feeling indulgent.

He looks even better now that Louis can see him from the front as he accepts his award with gratitude and a watery, dimpled smile. _God, he’s beautiful._

“Thank you,” Harry says into the microphone, voice sounding strained and Louis _knows_ that voice. That’s Harry’s trying-not-to-cry voice. That voice always made Louis emotional because he couldn’t stand Harry crying, even happy tears. “Thank you so much.”

Louis clears his throat, trying to ignore the tickle that means he’s on the verge of getting emotional as well. Harry deserves this so much and Louis is so proud of him. It’s hitting him really hard now just how much he misses Harry, misses _them_ , and it’s actually getting a little hard to breathe normally. He fights it down, ignoring the moisture welling at the corners of his eyes as he tries to listen to Harry’s acceptance speech.

“There are so many people to thank for helping me get here. First and foremost, I want to give a _massive_ ‘thank you’ to the fans. Without you guys, I would not be where I am today. Uhm, I wanna thank Jeff Azoff for pulling a lonely busker off the street three years ago and giving him a chance to prove himself in the studio. Uh, to my management and producers for making this the best album it could possibly be,” he runs a hand through his hair, so much shorter than Louis’ ever seen it. “To my mate, Niall, for always pushing me to reach deep and not be afraid of remembering the stuff that hurts, a lot of these songs wouldn’t have been written without him. And last, but certainly not least,” Harry clears his throat, and Louis’ heart stops because he swears Harry’s eyes have somehow managed to see beyond the stage lights and pinpoint him, “to the person who inspired most of these songs, it’s worth the pain to remember who we were again. Thank you for giving me the time we had together.”

Louis’ jaw drops, wet eyes staring blindly at the stage as Harry gives one more thank you to the crowd, holding up his award, and then is led offstage. _Did he just…_ ?

Louis’ heart hammers in his chest because he’s not sure what this means. Harry just called him out on stage and he’s not sure what it means. Is this his way of telling Louis that he’s still got a shot? Or was it just a very nice, _what we had was beautiful and now I’m moving on, thanks_. If he thought he was annoying before, the glares his seating partners give him for the rest of the show while he waits impatiently for it to be over assure him otherwise.

 

*

 

He’s lost him. The award show is over and Louis had fucking _lost_ Harry Styles somewhere in the crowd. _Fuck_. He feels like crying again. This night has been much more emotional than Louis was expecting. Feeling an acute sense of disappointment pooling in his stomach, Louis gives up, ducking into the nearest bathroom to dab at his eyes with some paper towels.

“Oh, sorry,” he says when he bumps into the broad body of someone trying to leave.

“It’s alright,” a familiar, deep voice says, steadying Louis with massive hands that feel a little like home.

Louis looks up from where he was rubbing his eyes to see none other than the one that got away staring at him with a sad smile.

“Hi, Louis,” Harry says when Louis remains speechless.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis says, voice breaking on that one lonely word. Why does that alone feel like a monumental confession?

“How are you?” Harry asks, hands still holding onto Louis’ sides. Louis hopes they stay there forever.

“Not great, actually,” Louis is finally able to answer, clearing his throat to add, “Proud of you though. Congratulations on the award. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Harry ducks his head, still modest even after everything he’s accomplished. Just like the old Harry, _Louis’ Harry_. Louis wonders if there’s a chance they might still be one and the same. “Have you listened to it? The album?”

“Of course I have, Curly,” Louis says, the nickname slipping out before he can stop himself. He thinks the reminder that things can’t just go back to how they were breaks him a little bit, maybe Harry too because he’s back to wearing that sad grin as he brushes a hand through his short hair.

“M’not all that curly anymore, Lou,” He says, green eyes fixed on Louis’ face like he’s waiting for something. Louis’ not sure what he’s looking for but he desperately wants to give it to him.

“You could be,” Louis replies, moving closer to Harry as someone pushes past with a hurried ‘excuse me’ to get into the bathroom. “If you wanted, you could be curly again.”

He’s not sure if Harry realizes it but Louis’ not talking about hair anymore.

Harry licks his lip, looking over Louis’ shoulder and then grabbing Louis by the arm and pulling him further into the bathroom so that they aren’t in people’s way anymore, plus it’s a little more private.

Harry lets go of Louis once they’re tucked safety inside the bathroom and moves to lean against the sink counter. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be curly again,” Harry tells him, body taut with tension. “Didn’t really work out for me before.”

Ok, yeah, neither of them are talking about hair now. Louis is a little relieved but also a little heartbroken.

“Right,” he says as the man from before flushes and exits his stall, going straight for the exit without washing his hands. This is the one time Louis is grateful for someone being gross. “You’re right, it was a bit shit before,” Louis agrees, he’ll take full credit for that. “You definitely deserved better.”

“Lou,” Harry sighs, “why didn’t you want to come with me? I didn’t want to be doing any of this without you, you know. Did you just not want to be with me anymore?”

“Harry, _no_ ,” Louis hurries to disagree, moving across the room to stand directly in front of his ex, holding his face in both hands. “I never _stopped_ wanting to be with you, you have to believe that. I was just,” Louis sighs heavily, finally admitting it, “scared. I was scared of living without the safety net of having our families close by. What if we’d gotten into trouble? There would be no one to help us.”

“We would’ve been each other’s safety net, Louis,” Harry says, gripping onto Louis’ elbows. “I don’t believe that’s your only reason.”

Louis slowly lowers his hands from Harry’s face and looks to the floor, looking for something, anything to make him strong enough to do this. Because it needs to be done if he want any hope of fixing things. “I was afraid of losing you.”

“What?” Harry asks, face scrunched in confusion. “Louis, you _broke up with me_.”

Louis nods, swallowing hard before he can explain. “I know. But the way it happened was on _my terms_ ,” he looks back up into Harry’s questioning gaze. “You still don’t even realize how beautiful you are, do you? You’re so lovely and at least in England, I knew who I was competing with to keep you. America would have been a whole new ballgame. What if you found someone else, Harry? Someone better than me? And then I would have been alone in a country I was a stranger to with no one, nothing to show for it but a broken heart and no way home.”

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry says, voice cracking, eyes shedding tears that break Louis’ heart all over again as he captures Louis’ jaw in his hands. “You could have told me.”

“No,” Louis shakes his head careful not to dislodge Harry’s hands. “I could barely even tell myself back then, Haz.”

“ _Baby_ ,” Harry breathes. “There _is_ no one better than you. Not in England _or_ America. Not anywhere in the universe.”

When their lips slot together, it’s wet and slippery and wonderful. It feels like breathing again after drowning for an eternity. 

Louis grasps onto Harry’s blazer and pulls himself closer to Harry’s body, licking into Harry’s mouth when he opens up to him. He has a lot of kisses to make up for.

When they break apart, Harry looks down at him like he’s seeing the stars for the first time, awe and longing in his gaze. “I have a party I’m supposed to go to. Come with me?”

“Yes. Always yes, Curly,” Louis agrees.

He’s not making the same mistake twice.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, thank you , thank you to my friends for being amazing and always encouraging. Thank you to Michelle (who is among those friends) for the quickest beta ever. And thank you for reading this and helping my needy soul feel fulfilled.
> 
> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, click [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt). 
> 
> And there is a rebloggable fic post [here](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/post/160986252912/what-could-have-been-fallinglikethis-zayniam)!


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